Reawakened-Rewritten
by FaerieTales4ever
Summary: This is season 1, my way. I hope to add lots of fluffy scenes that we wanted to see but didn't get to in the show or the book. Each chapter will be told from one or two character perspectives. in third person. I won't continue this unless you tell me you want more. If you want more, review with ideas for scenes or extended moments you want to see. Rating may change


**A/N: This is the first half of the first episode of season 1, my way. I hope to add lots of fluffy scenes that we wanted to see but didn't get to in the show or the book. As said in the summary, each chapter will be told from one or two character perspectives. This one and Part 2 is narrated by Emma and Snow in third person. I won't continue this unless you tell me you want more. If you want more, review with idea's for extra scenes or extended moments you want to see. The next part will be up faster the more reviews I get. I'd really ;like at least 5 reviews before I post each chapter :)**

**Disclaimer: Once Upon A Time and all character's and familiar dialogue from the show belong to Disney/ABC and the show's brilliant creators and writers. Book rights belong to ABC and Odette Beane not me. No profit is being made from this just having fun with my favorite show.**

1

Snow White /Emma

**The Curse **

** Snow White** couldn't breathe. She stood in a glass room with black tile flooring. Flames nine feet tall sprung up all around her and pitch-black smoke seemed to suck every inch of space and oxygen from the room. She couldn't even see the walls anymore. The only reason Snow was certain the walls even existed came from the brief glance she received when she first entered the room and the flames had merely created an intimidating three sided box around her instead of incasing her in their impenetrable ring of inferno as they were now. As another flame, this one nearly 11 feet tall, materialized itself mere inches from her body, the once fearless fighter and bandit became truly afraid.

The other side if the room was completely fire free, but Snow knew there was no escape. The fire was impossible to outrun, as it was the first thing she'd tried to do when she found herself trapped in this room, but quickly discovered it was hopeless. No matter what the princess tried; running jumping, even simply walking around the fire as though she was a young child again trying to sneak down to the kitchen to have a late night snack, didn't deter it. The inferno acted like a hunter, always planting itself one step ahead of her wherever she turned. The more she moved, the faster the room would fill up. Snow did not know whether she was awake, or even alive. She did not know what the fire could do to her. She knew just by watching it, this was no ordinary fire one may find warming a hearth on a winter night. No, this fire had magic in it. Would it skin her? Burn her? Torture her? Could those things be done to her if she was dead already? This room sure seemed like somewhere she would go if she were deceased.

And if she was not dead, she soon would be unless she found a way out, but no doors or windows presented themselves as far as the eye could see. The last thing she remembered was surrendering to her stepmother and taking a bite of that retched apple. As Snow continued to look around, trying her hardest not to breath in the smoke or to let her brain lose control and begin panicking; she noticed something disturbing about one of the flames closest to her.

It wasn't made of fire.

The surface of the flame flickered with images. To Snow's horror, she recognized those pictures. It was almost as though the fire were taunting her; showing her everything she would miss if she died at its hand. And all the seemingly bad things she had done to deserve the punishment that was sure to come. Scene after scene flashed in the flame; each one unraveling the princess' sanity more than the last. When Snow remembered her last days with her mother, she sank to her knees sobbing.

"I'm sorry!" she yelled out desperately. All her mother had ever wanted was for her to be good. And now her life was going to end with her legacy being nothing more than some girl on the run from the Queen. Where had she gone wrong? What had she done to make her stepmother hate her so? Could she having done something to stop this? Those were the questions that ran through her mind as she stared at the vicious smoke and flames, now each flickering with another memory. Just when the smoke rose to her waste, in the midst of everything, she thought she saw…no it couldn't be.

And yet, it was.

Her prince, her Charming, stepped straight through the ring of impassable torture that now incased the small, broken women, and kissed her firmly on the lips.

Snow took a long, deep breath, as if she was coming up for her first lungful of air after being trapped underwater for far to long. Slowly she opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. No longer did those threatening flames loom above her. Now there was a clear blue sky and trees of the most brilliant shade of green. They rustled in the wind as if to say _Welcome back._ It was only when she looked to her side that she noticed she was not alone. Each and every one of the dwarfs, the closest thing she had to a family now that her stepmother, poor Regina, had chosen the path of darkness. They beamed up at her, eyes gleaming and uncertain, as if they weren't sure whether Snow had really come back to them or not. The princess's gaze settled on an ornately carved glass lid.

_ A coffin lid _she realized. Such a sight intensified the feelings she had harbored only moments ago of her painfully slow, yet imminently approaching moment of death. Snow looked around once more. She needed reassurance that she was, in fact, somewhere in her Enchanted Forest home and this was not some fantasy her mind cooked up in her last moments to give her a sense of peace before she died. When she glanced to her right, she found what-or rather _who- _she was looking for.

"You" she breathed, relieved and joyously happy to see those intense eyes sparkle the way they did when he was with her. She sat up and caressed his face to be sure he was real.

He was.

"You found me," Snow whispered the words, afraid that he would disappear if she said them at all.

His smile grew even wider, "Did you ever doubt I would?" her responded tenderly, grasping her hands in his.

"Honestly? I didn't know, but after all we've been though, I should've known even something like this," she gestured to the bottom of her elaborately carved coffin. "Couldn't keep us apart."

Charming kissed her again. "I will _always _find you."

"Do you promise?" Snow asked, attempting to put everything she felt for this man, her wonderful Prince, into that one question.

* * *

"I do." He repeated those same two words he had used to reassure her in the forest only days ago. Now, they were not only filled with passion and determination, but sweet, tender love.

"And do you, Snow, promise to love this man as your husband, for better or worse, rich or poor, as long as you both shall live?" asked the priest. Snow stood opposite her Prince, smile growing ever wider, her face glowing in anticipation. She thought back to the first day they met, when she had robbed his carriage and punctured his face with a rock.

"I do," she breathed, almost not believing that after everything they'd been through, all the times they'd thought the other was lost forever, they were finally going to get their happy ending.

"You may kiss the bride," the priest commanded. The room erupted into applause. The entire kingdom rejoiced; the princess had finally found her True Love. But just as the couple was about to share their first kiss as husband and wife, the back doors flew open.

"Sorry I'm late," smirked an elegantly dressed woman in a slimming all black pant suit and regal ebony cape. An ornately carved black headpiece adorned her hair. She radiated power, and the menacing sneer plastered on her face could strike fear into even the bravest of the land. The Evil Queen.

Snow watched as her stepmother strode briskly toward the newlyweds. Two of the castle's best guards raced forward, but she spread her heads to her sides, effortlessly thrusting them toward the walls.

"Run." warned Doc "it's the Queen,"

The princess stepped out of her husband's protective hold, leveling eyes with the Queen. She unsheathed her husband's sword, "You are no longer Queen," she proclaimed bravely, "Just a witch." A gentle touch on her shoulder as her husband lowered her arm calmed her.

"You've lost," he said, stepping in front of his wife. He knew Snow needed no protecting, but nonetheless, he always protected those he loved. "I will not allow you to ruin this wedding."

The Queen snickered, "Oh my dear Charming," she mocked, clearly entertained by the Prince's brash manner. "I haven't come to _ruin _anything," _Yeah right, _thought Snow bitterly, _you ruin everything._ " On the contrary dear, I've come to give you a gift.

"We want _nothing_ from you," Snow affirmed

"But you shall have it," the Queen insisted. "My gift to you," she jeered, taunting the newlyweds with false suspense, "is this happy, happy day," her voice was thick with sarcastic bluntness, which was slowly morphing into anger. "For tomorrow my real work begins; you've made your vows, now I make mine. Everything you love, everything _all_ of you love will be taken from you. Out of you suffering will arise my victory. I will destroy your happiness." With that, she turned and briskly sauntered back up the isle. Just as she was about to walk out the door, Charming yelled and thrust his sword at her chest. It would have been a direct hit, but she vanished in a cloud of smoke. Charming came back to the alter, Snow clung to him tightly. She was frightened by her stepmother, but secretly relieved that she had gotten away. Snow had spent too many years in admiration of her not to see the broken-hearted woman lay behind her cold mask.

* * *

**Emma Swan** stood in the newly polished elevator twisting a gold chain around her left wrist. It was the one reminder that today was special, it was her 28th birthday. And yet she was spending it at work. This was her third "date" in the past two weeks. She was not twisting the bracelet out of nervousness, but out of boredom. She had done her research; Brian Anderson: a wanted thief who recently embezzled money from his latest employer making sure to keep all his records of his whereabouts hidden, skipping town before the police could catch him. The worst part was that he was cheating on his wife and family. This was not uncommon among Emma's line of work. She had met all kinds of sleaze-bags eager to quench their manly urges and date her no matter the consequences, even when they only knew of her through the Internet.

It still disgusted her. She was sure Brian would be no different. His sorry ass would be in jail in the first twenty minutes; that much she was sure of.

Emma had been a bail bonds person for the past eight years. Finding people seemed to be the only thing she was good at. She had a perfect record and though she looked sweet and innocent, she had never once met her match in combat, male or female. She had learned to be tough growing up as an orphan. She had been placed with over a dozen families in her 17 years in the foster system. Some were nice enough, but others were physically and emotionally abusive and because of this, Emma had built an impenetrable wall around herself at a very young age. She hadn't had close friends since she was 13 –except one- and moving around was the only thing that kept her from focusing on the failed attempts to find her parents since she was ten years old. They were the only people that ever evaded her.

It seemed like cruel irony to her. She could track down even the most elusive of criminals, but not her own parents. Then again, did she really want to meet the people who loved her so much they left her on the side of a highway wrapped in nothing but her baby blanket? She restled with this question every day, but especially on her birthday. Or rather, the day she called her birthday. It was also the day she was found on the side of the road. The newspaper's said she was only an hour old when she was brought to the hospital by a nameless seven year old boy. Part of her, the little girl that has been dormant since she was three, wanted so much to finally find them and just forget all their past mistakes to know that they loved her, to remember what love felt like. The other half, the rational, hardened by the world Emma, reminded herself that these people could be _anyone_. They could be the loving parents she dreamed of and hey could have a perfectly good- _No; scratch that _Emma shook her head. She knew from experience that whatever the reason was, however noble it seemed; it didn't look the same to the kid. There was never a day that went by that she didn't think about what she must look like to- Emma frowned and tried to clear her mind, this was not the time for such deep thoughts. _It's never the time_ that little voice in the back of her head countered. _Shut up _she thought.

Stepping out of the elevator, Emma walked up to the nearest table and held her hand out to greet Brian. After some small talk on Emma's part, she wasn't sure why, but she let it slip that she was an orphan, it was her turn to ask and hopefully incriminate Brian. It didn't take long. When Emma mentioned that she was the "chick who put up the rest of the money" to bail him out, Brian didn't react at first beyond saying she was a bail bonds person. Then all at once he attempted to flip the table and bolted from the restaurant.

_Really? _Emma thought. But she was quick to follow after him, even in six-inch heels. She had expected this to happen; nonetheless, she was a little annoyed that she had to chase a criminal on her birthday. She walked briskly out into the streets, stopping by him just as he got into his car.

"You don't have to do this, you know? I have money." Brian remarked.

"No you don't! And if you do, you should give it to your family." Emma replied agitated.

"What the hell do you know about family?" Brain scoffed.

The question caught her off guard. So Emma did the only thing that came to her naturally. She silenced him by slamming his head against the wheel and knocked him unconscious. "Nothing." she answered regretfully into the night.

* * *

Back at her third floor apartment, Emma kicked off her shoes and unboxed the one lonely vanilla cupcake she bought herself, just as she did every year. She lit a colorful star candle, sticking it in the cupcake and lighting it.

_Happy Birthday Emma _she wished herself ruefully. _Make a wish_. She closed her eyes tight and blew. _Please don't let me be alone on my birthday _she prayed. Just as she opened her eyes, the doorbell rang. _No way _she thought; _that would just be too weird. _

She went to the door and opened it, narrowing her eyes at the brown-haired chocolate-eyed boy that stood on the other side. "Can I help you?" she asked thoroughly confused as to why a random kid would be outside her apartment.

"Hi," he said uncertainly, "are you Emma Swan?"

"Yeah, who are you?"

"My name's Henry," said the boy. Emma waited, and then dropped the bombshell, "I'm your son," he finished cheekily, bouncing on his toes.

Emma reeled. _He's my WHAT? That's not even possible! Ok it is but…that was ten years ago! There's no way in he-_ "Whoa, hey Kid," she tried to collect herself as he ducked under her arm and into the apartment, "I don't have a son! Where are your parent's?!" she asked, desperately hoping this was just some weird and _incredibly freaky _ misunderstanding. He wasn't hers. He couldn't be. _Right?_

"Ten years ago," Henry said, turning to face her, "did you give up a baby for adoption?" Emma stared at him. _How the hell did he know that? What in the hell is happening right now? _"That was me," he concluded as gently as possible, clearly seeing her face change and trying to ease the blow.

"Gimme a minute," she said, darting to the bathroom. This was getting all too real.

She shut the bathroom door and leaned against the sink. She had only held her baby boy for a minute; he was nothing more than a squirming infant. And then the nurse took him. Though she didn't want to admit it, she could see his father in Henry, the eyes, the chin, and the straightforwardness. And it freaking terrified her. How was the possible? How did he find her? Was she just supposed to believe him after two seconds? _Did_ she believe him? No. She couldn't. There was no evidence, nothing to convince her. Normally she would think something like this was insane. And yet- there was something tugging at her, _insisting _he was hers. Emma liked to think she had a superpower, she could tell when _anyone _was lying. And he-_gulp-_was not lying.

A closed adoption. The words haunted her every day. It was what she asked for, being as young as she was. No right to Henry. Give him his best chance. She didn't even name him. _Oh God. _What must he think of her? If Emma found the people, or person who gave her up, she'd be yelling and screaming and crying and throwing a tantrum like a two year old, finally venting the anger that had been bottled up for years. And yet, here Henry was in that exact position, smiling the same way his father did and-

"Hey do you have any juice?" And asking for juice. "Never mind, found some."

Emma smiled to herself as she stepped out of the bathroom, ready to face her son. She found him drinking out of the carton and leaning on the counter. To some parents, it would've been inexcusably rude behavior, but Emma, she liked it. Liked that this kid- Henry, _her_ Henry, had no troubling making himself at home. It was something she wished she had, the ability to go with the flow and take everything in stride. But when you grew up like she did, the only way you felt comfortable, felt safe, was to be in control.

"We better get going," said Henry, putting down the jug and wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"Going where?" Emma asked, unable to keep the small part of her that was still suspicious at bay. Seconds ago, she was ready to face him, or she thought so. Looking at him now, the expert bail bond part of her took over. She was not letting him worm his way through her walls.

"I want you to come home with me," Henry admitted earnestly.

Now her walls were climbing higher and higher. That was the _last _thing she expected him to say. It was too much of a shock to her system, and there was now way in hell it was ever gonna happen. "Ok kid, I'm calling the cops to come take you home."

"Then I'll tell them you kidnapped me," he said, as Emma prepared to dial

_S%$! _Emma thought. "And they'll believe you because I'm you're birthmother," she whispered under her breath, shocked to be admitting it out loud.

"Yep," Henry said unfazed. He had clearly expected this.

_Yep, he's my kid all right. _"You won't do that," Emma said.

"Try me," her son challenged.

"Look kid," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, "You're good." Henry smiled. "But here's the thing. I can tell when _anyone _is lying. And you? Are." She dialed slowly, baiting him 9….1….-

"Wait," Henry said, desperately. "Please don't call the cops." He begged. "Come home with me, please?"

_Damn those adorable puppy dog eyes! _Emma sighed, "Where's home?"

"Storybrooke, Maine."

_Seriously? _"Really, Storybrooke?" Henry shook his head. "All right," Emma relented. "Let's get you back to Storybrooke."

"_Yes!" _Henry hopped down from his chair by the counter and followed Emma out the door.


End file.
